How can I love when I'm afraid to fall
by BraveryIsToActInSpiteOfFear
Summary: A Clato (Cato and Clove) fanfic. I wrote this awhile ago and my writing style has improved heaps since then so I am sorry if some of this is not up to scratch.
1. Chapter 1 - Memories and Innocence

**Clove**

**Part one**

Isn't it ironic how as soon as your life finally seems perfect you end up with something else to worry about? I think as I wake up. Cato and I have had had nearly a year without worrying about the games or being separated, almost a year of heart exploding happiness. Cato and Clove, Clove and Cato. Perfection. But it's reaping day today and the worry has crept back in. Not so much for Cato, he's an only child, he just has himself –and maybe me- to be worried about. But my brother Kallen turned twelve this year and it's his first reaping. It's unlikely he'll be picked. Unlikely but not impossible and I'm scared for him. Scared for me.

In our District, the games are an honor; the reapings are often chaotic with all the boys wanting to be District two's next hero. So even if Kallen or Cato were to be reaped, someone would volunteer in their place, probably. Except, there is an unspoken rule in this district that those who are top of the class in the training academy are to go to the games. If one of them were to be reaped, you would not volunteer for them. Cato is top of his class. So am I.

I hear a knock on the door and look up to see Cato leaning on the door frame.

"Morning beautiful" he says as he walks toward me. He frowns "You look worried" he says "what's wrong?" He runs his thumb over my cheekbone and tilts my head up so I'm forced to look at him. "Ah," his face darkens, "the reaping." I nod and make a face. "Come on Clove, it's never going to happen, it won't be us, too many people want it." I'm shaking my head before he can finish.

"But we're too good, if I'm reaped, I'm going into the Arena." Cato slips his hand into mine and squeezes.

"You probably won't even get picked; your name is only in what, four times?"

"Twenty" I say softly and his eyes snap up to mine.

"Twenty" he repeats. "How is that?" I shrug and pull my hand out of his.

"I'm sixteen, one for every year since I'm twelve, and every year I've taken out four tessare for everyone in my family." I say in a monotone, repeating the same story I tell every time I'm asked how I have my name in the draw so many times. See the Capitol is great like that, every year, starting when you're twelve your name goes in the ballot one more time to be reaped for the Hunger Games. So most girls my age will have their name in four times, nice and fair right? Wrong, because they exploit the poor, and in exchange for putting your name in again, you get a tessare, a meagre supply of grain and oil. There are five in my family and I've taken four tessare each year in addition to the compulsory entries.

Cato is still looking shocked, I laugh, "Cato, it's not that hard to understand, we have a big family and living in District Two doesn't automatically make you rich." I point out. Typically those in Districts One, Two, and Four are richer and better fed since we usually win the games; which means we get food packages from the Capitol in reward. And since we're better fed, we keep winning the games while the other nine Districts starve and watch as two of their children are killed in the Arena every year.

"But your dad. . . . ." He trails off and I know what he's thinking. I should be safe and well fed because my dad is one of the Capitol security guards. A peacekeeper. I shrug

"Doesn't make a difference"

"Let's go" Cato says suddenly, standing and starting to pull me up.

"Go where?" I ask, confused as the reaping doesn't start for a few hours.

"I don't know, for a walk, out, anywhere" he laughs "got to get your mind off the games Knife Girl" he says using the nickname he came up with when we were eight and I threw a knife at him during Training one day when we were young. I missed him of course; my aim at least has improved although my enthusiasm for the games has been lost. I groan

"That has got to be the lamest nickname ever. And shut up Cato, we both know I could hit you in my sleep now." I laugh as he puts his hands up and backs away, a look of mock panic on his face.

"No, please no" he cries "spare me!" Cato laughs then winks at me, "race you to the house?" He asks. I don't answer and instead push past him and start running. 'The house' is our special place. It's an ugly, old, abandoned building but it's ours. It's served as the setting for our imaginary games when we were young, a pretend school where we did our homework and finally was where we had our first kiss eight months ago. I beat Cato there; even with my head start I'm faster than him. I guess little people get a bonus there. I look around the room, covered in pictures of us together, drawings from when we were young and all our favorite toys and books. We hang out, talking, running around and generally acting like kids until we hear the bell ring, calling everyone to the square for the reaping. I grip Cato's arm as panic washes through me and he turns to face me. He smiles and brushes my hair from my face. "Relax Clove, you're badass with those knives, I think I might even be scared of you." He grins as I scowl at him.

"Ha ha, aren't you just the funniest" I say sarcastically but I reach for his hand and link my fingers through his. We walk to the square together and prick our fingers, pressing the blood onto the designated squares to sign in. Unless you are dying, you are required to be at the reaping and the peacekeepers actually check every house for people trying to get out of it. Just before we separate and go to our assigned areas, Cato leans down and pressing his lips to my temple, breathes "I love you Clove, whatever happens." I pull his head down and our lips meet then imitating the ridiculous Capitol accent, I reply "and may the odds be EVER in your favor."


	2. Chapter 2 - The Reaping

**Clove**

**Part two**

We part, and I weave my way through the crowd to stand with my classmates. I watch as Cato makes his way to the area for seventeen year old boys. He looks up and noticing me, winks and tilts his head toward the stage where Corelia Flavel, District Two's Capitol representative has just tripped up the stairs in her sky high heels. Adjusting the pink mop on her head, she totters towards the microphone.

"Welcome District Two!" She trills, and we all cover our ears as the microphone screeches. "Oops" she giggles, "now, that's better." A few people laugh feebly along with her. "Well as I was saying" she continues, beaming at everyone, "welcome to the 74th annual Hunger Games! And may the odds be EVER in your favor!" She motions to someone behind her and the video that is played every year at the reaping starts. The Mayor used to give a speech about the History of Panem but now we just watch a video instead. Corelia stops smiling for once as President Snow, the President of Panem explains about the dark days and how the rebels were overthrown and it was decreed that to avoid

such war and suffering ever happening again, each year the twelve Districts were to offer one, male and one female tribute for the 'honor' of fighting in the Hunger Games. Honor and glory aside, the Games are a competition where 24 'tributes' fight to the death until there is only one victor left. This victor is then a hero and becomes rich as well as giving monthly food parcels to the winner's district. When the video ends, everyone cheers and I see Cato rolling his eyes at me, I grin back, good to know there's at least one other non brainwashed person in the District. "So as usual" Corelia starts, smiling again "ladies first." Noticing the roar of the crowd, Corelia mock scowls and raises her hands. "Yes, yes, we are all VERY excited" she says "but please quiet down so we can get to the IMPORTANT task of choosing our TRIBUTES!" I smile at her affected voice but another wave of nervousness rolls through me. As Corelia swirls her hand through all the papers in the first glass bowl, even the birds seem to stop singing. Twenty of those slips are mine I think as she plucks one from the bowl. Please don't be me, please not me I chant to myself. She opens the paper, "Our female tribute is Clove Sevina" she trills and my heart stops. All my worry, all my fears, come true? I stand in shock until the girl behind me shoves me forward; blindly I climb on stage and shake Corelia's hand. There are no volunteers, not that I'd expected any, with my knife throwing skill and speed everyone thinks I'm the best person to go, they don't know how much I hate the games. I can't find Cato but, I don't know if I'd want to see his expression anyway. Corelia grins at me "congratulations Clove!" She exclaims but I've tuned her out. All I can hear are my thoughts racing through my head. Why me? Why? I am frozen, until I hear Corelia call out the name of District Two's male tribute. "Kallen" her voice falters, "Kallen Sevina" she says softly, for once not beaming. I realize what she said and my head snaps up

"Kallen NOOOOOOOO!" I yell at the same time Cato steps forward,

"I volunteer as tribute" his voice rings out across the square and no one dares to volunteer instead of him. For once his skill and strength is a curse. I am now going into the arena with Cato. Cato! If one of us is to win, the other is to die. I don't bother trying to be strong and instead let the tears run down my cheeks. Cato, now on stage, stops in front of me. "Hey" he says softly, wiping my tears. "Cheer up Knife Girl" he smiles and goes to shake Corelia's hand. She is positively glowing with all the drama that's happened today.

"District Two" she announces "your tributes, Clove Sevina and Cato Hadley!" Cato reaches for my hand and I squeeze it as we are ushered off stage and into the Justice Building. I didn't realize quite how tightly I was gripping his hand until he has to pry it off as we are lead to our separate rooms for goodbyes.

I sit on the red seat in the small room, I recognize the material from a dress my mother has, it's called velvet, the feel of it calms me but also makes me realize I'm never going to see my family after this last goodbye. No matter how skilled I am, I will not win at the expense of Cato's life. Oh god, Cato is going to die, I am going to die. There is no way to put a positive spin on this. I suddenly I am hit by a wave of guilt. I should want to win. If I win then my family gets food parcels. Our district will be well fed. But I hate our District. I know the other Districts hate us too. Maybe it's time for another District to win. I look up as my family files into the room; it is far too small for all of us but they all crowd in anyway. My mother and Kallen both have tears running down their face. I can see my father is holding it together for the sake of appearing strong. My ten year old sister Lila looks a little upset but I don't think it's sunk in for her yet. Xavier, the baby of the family at six, is oblivious to the tears and climbs into my lap.

"Where you going Clove?" he demands. "I want to come!"Smiling, I run my fingers through his hair. My dad lifts him off my lap and takes my hand.

"Clove, you're good . . ." He starts but I shake my head.

"If I win, Cato dies. It's not going to happen." He nods and I know this is what he expected me to say. "I love you all so much, remember that" I tell them and hug everyone. A peacekeeper arrives and tells everyone to leave. As they leave, my father remains.

"Clove" he begins but I stop him.

"I know it's selfish to not want the best for the district and you and all but I can't, it won't even really be like living if I win without Cato." He takes my hand.

"I'm not going to try to convince you to win Clove."He sighs "I just want to tell you that people change in the Arena. Cato might change. So remember him how he is now. He can be aggressive; you just don't usually see it because he cares for you so much." The tears are rolling down my cheeks. "I love you dad" I choke. He holds me in his arms until I am nearly dragged from the room by a peacekeeper. He joins my family and waves as I board the train that will take me to the Capitol.


	3. Chapter 3 - On the train

**Clove**

**Part Three**

As soon as I step foot on the train, Corelia whisks me off to what I assume is to be my room. She stands in the door chatting as though we are firm friends already. Her smile never once slips off her face. She finally realizes I'm not paying attention.

"Well" she says, looking slightly awkward "help yourself to any clothes you like; dinner will be served down the hall in two hours." She pauses uncertainly.

"Oh" I look up, "um thanks" I smile at her and satisfied, she trots off. I shuffle through the clothes in the drawer but finding nothing but flimsy, frilly dresses, I decide to stay in my reaping day dress. Closing the drawer on the mess I created, I leave to look for Cato. After opening a few doors on what seems like an endless row, I find a door slightly cracked open, I peek in and see Cato. He looks up and sees me.

"Clove. . ." he begins but I ignore him and walk into his outstretched arms. He wraps them around me and tilts my head up. "Hey girl" he says softly "I'm guessing you have something you want to say."

"You freaking IDIOT." He laughs without humor

"I think it would be easier to kill me than Kallen, Clove" he says "you know that."

"And I think you know that there is no way I'm going to be victor if it means you die. Why didn't you let Marc or Ky volunteer instead? They wanted it, Kallen was never actually going to have to fight!" I tell him, my voice rising with each word. "And put on a freaking shirt!" I chuck one at him, noticing he is shirtless. He catches it, eyes still on me.

"I think it's obvious why I volunteered Knife Girl" he says dryly pulling on the shirt I threw at him. "Marc, Ky? If I let them volunteer, they would stop at nothing to win, they wouldn't hesitate killing you." I snort.

"So what's your plan then? Hope someone else kills me?" His eyes flash and he pulls the door shut behind me.

"What the freaking HELL Clove, do you seriously think so low of me that you think I would want to even LIVE with you dead?!" I shake my head.

"But this way, both of us are going to die Cato." I throw my arms up in annoyance and he catches my wrists and brings them to his chest.

"Clove," his voice is gentle, "we were both going to die anyway. At least this way Kallen lives, and I don't have to watch you die knowing there's nothing I can do." I crack a smile, trying to lighten the mood.

"You were going to kill yourself over me? Sometimes I worry about your brain, child." I tell him pulling out of his grip and pointing at him. He smiles too.

"So long as my heart still works fine" he proclaims and I roll my eyes.

"Yep, I'm definitely worried." He laughs. Sighing, I slide down the door and sit on the floor. "Seriously now, what's our plan?" I ask. He frowns and sits down in front of me.

"I think it's obvious neither of us want to win if the other dies. So, we both die then?" he says slowly. I grin,

"This honestly has to be the strangest conversation ever, if anyone were listening imagine what they would be thinking." He raises his eyebrow, "okay, I know. Serious, right." I grumble. The corners of his mouth quirk up

"Definitely can't live without you." He laughs. "We have to make it so the others kill us, because I'm not killing you."

"I thought that was a given Cato."

"True," he grins. "So what will make the others hate us enough to have to kill us?" He drops his head and there's a pause as we both think.

"Arrogance." I say suddenly, his head snaps up.

"What?"

"Arrogance" I repeat. "We have to be so up ourselves, so confident we're going to win. Show off in training, get high scores. They'll hate us; we'll be the first they try kill." Cato nods slowly, a smile spreading across his face.

"I like it" he says, "Besides, we are good Clove. Good enough to win this if it weren't both of us here."

"But we are both here, aren't we." I remind him.

"Yeah, I noticed" he says.

"If we can't win for our district though," I pause, "I think, it's important we make sure none of the other Careers win either. District One and Four do not need any more food or money. It's time someone from another District wins. They need it." 'Careers' is the name given to the tributes from Districts One, Two and Four. We are the Districts that technically break the rules and train for the Games from a young age. Because of this we win more games and are better fed and richer. Cato grins.

"So we're gonna be Careers?" He asks and I nod.

"Join up with them. Kill them then hope the others kill us."

"We could get some more time together too." He points out and picks up my hand and traces the lines on my palm as he thinks. "This way though, we might actually have to kill people Clove" he says uncertainly, "the careers are the mass murderers. That's the main thing I hate about the games, the killing innocent people we don't even know." I wrinkle my nose.

"Ugh I know" I groan, "is it bad that I seriously would kill to spend more time with you?" The dinner bell rings and he pull me to my feet. Bending down he kisses me. "You're doing it for the other Districts too" he points out "but I would kill for you too."


	4. Chapter 4 - Table Manners

**Clove**

**Part Four**

We find our way to the dining cart but there is no one there. I am captivated by how fast we are moving. The scenery outside flashes past so fast you can't even see what we are going past. I've never been on a train before and Cato has to pull me away from the window to meet our mentors when they walk. Brutus, the man who will mentor Cato, is a huge, aggressive guy. I always thought Cato was big. Tall and muscled, he is incredibly intimidating physically. But Brutus towers over him. I have always secretly disliked Brutus. He loves the games; something I can't fathom but to him they really are just a fun competition. That happens to involve the death of 23 children. He looks Cato up and down and a grin spreads across his face.

"Well," he drawls "You're giving me a lot to work with. You any good?" Cato shrugs and I roll my eyes.

"He's amazing, top of the school" I tell him and his eyes flip to me. "You should see how far he can throw a spear! And how much he can lift." Brutus nods slowly.

"And you little girl?" Marcee, the female mentor who will be mentoring me, speaks up. I jump, I hadn't noticed her behind Brutus.

"She's incredible too. Never mind about me throwing a spear. You should see how far she throws knives. And she never misses. Ever." Cato is talking to the mentors but he looks at me as he speaks and I can see the admiration in his eyes. Marcee tilts her head and examines me, considering.

"Well, you don't look like much" she says, hesitating, "That could be an advantage because the other tributes might not think you're as good as you are, and not consider you a threat. But, it's most likely a disadvantage, sorry honey. Since you're from District Two they're going to expect you to be good anyway. And your size will make them think of you as the easy target of the Career pack. They'll want to get you to bring the pack down." It is immediately assumed that the District Two tributes will join the Careers pack in the Arena. Cato's hand finds mine and squeezes it. But Marcee doesn't miss anything. Her eyes flicker down to our linked hands and I see the look of recognition and surprisingly sympathy flit across her face only to be replaced by irritation.

"How long?" She asks grimacing. I frown, as if confused but watching her eyes flick between our clasped hands and our faces, I think I know what she means.

"How long what?!" Brutus demands turning to Marcee and shooting her a questioning look.

"I want to know how long our two hopes at victor have been together." She snarls just as Corelia walks in. She pales and puts her hand to the wall to steady herself. She tiptoes unsteadily across the carriage and I wonder again at her sanity in shoe choices. Five inch heels on a moving train?

"Marcee!" Corelia scolds, sounding about as scary as Lila when she's mad, "We don't talk to our tributes like that!" Marcee holds my gaze for a few seconds, her expression unreadable, before turning around to Corelia.

"Sorry" she says, not sounding particularly sorry at all and flounces past her to the table. "Let's just eat." Brutus follows her to the table. Cato frowns at me.

"What just happened?" He whispers. I wrinkle my nose

"I'll explain later if it doesn't come up again" I pat his arm. "Let's go eat." But I imagine it will come up. Marcee didn't look like she was going to drop it. We sit down across from Brutus and Marcee and I gasp at the food on the table. Never before have I seen so much food in one place. Cato grins and nudges me

"Eat up Knife Girl" he says "then maybe you won't be quite so little anymore." He winks and I mock punch him. He catches my wrist then lifts me into his lap. "But for now, you're a nice size" I catch Marcee glaring at me and I slide off Cato's lap and reach for a dish.

"This looks amazing!" I gush, spooning it onto my plate. This seems to break the silence and suddenly everyone is reaching for the food and starting to talk. I am barely paying attention to the conversation. The food is sooo good. I'm shoveling it in as fast as I can. Cato elbows me and I turn to him and raise my eyebrows, my mouth full.

"Slow down Clove" he says. "You'll get sick." I look around and notice everyone staring at me. I swallow.

"Right, sorry." I apologize to Corelia who looks positively horrified at my manners; She smiles graciously.

"That's quite alright Clove" She says, "Now; I will leave you four to talk tactics" She laughs, "I'm afraid I won't be much help in that case." I smile at her and she rises from the table. Marcee snickers

"Ah yes. Tactics" she says, with a glint in her eyes "Now won't that be fun." Corelia beams, missing the sarcasm. As soon as she is out of earshot, Marcee leans over. "Now," she says, the smile gone, "let's continue where we left off. How long have you been together?" I shrug

"Nearly a year, officially" I tell her and she scowls leaning back.

"Great" she sighs. "Well, Brutus, we're not winning this year." She says getting up to leave. But Brutus pulls her back down.

"Wait" He says "If it were this that big a deal; if you were that close that you wouldn't win at the expense of each other's life as Marcee here seems to think, why would you volunteer Cato?" Cato looks surprised.

"Her brother was reaped!" He exclaims as if it we're obvious. Brutus shrugs, still not convinced,

"So why not let someone else volunteer for him and hope your little girlfriend here has it in her to win"

"That is exactly what I said" I say pointing at Brutus "But he has some noble idea he has to be there for me." Cato shrugs sheepishly.

"I couldn't watch her die on TV" he says making a face. I smile, touched even though I've heard it before and believe it or not, the second time doesn't make him sound like any less of an idiot.

"So she isn't as good as you claim she is then?" Brutus questions, still concerned about his precious Games.

"She is" Cato says softly looking at me "She's incredible. But any guy from our District would be better. Nor would they care about her. Even any of the other Career tributes might be better." I bite my lip as Brutus and Marcee exchange looks,

"I suppose you two already have a plan worked out don't you?" She asks tiredly.

"Yeah" Cato admits.

"Going to share it?" Cato meets my eyes and I shake my head,

"No" I look Marcee in the eye, "No we're not." She puts her head in her hands and sighs.

"Okay. Whatever, I don't care. Do what you want. You'll probably get some sponsors just from being from District Two. Just don't mention this to anyone alright. Especially not Corelia?" We nod and she and Brutus leave the room.

"Huh." Cato says considering "sponsors just for being born in District Two. You are so right about letting another District win. This is crazy." I nod

"Yeah I know." The sponsors are the rich people in the Capitol; the ones who enjoy watching the games as an exciting event. The Capitol residents bet on the Tributes as to who will win. They give money to the Mentors to buy food and survival items for the Tributes in the Arena. Getting sponsors can be the difference between life and death. The tributes with the most sponsors are the one believed most likely to win judged on their training scores, their physical appearance and their District. Cato and I were going to get sponsors because of where we were born. And most likely Cato's size would get him a few too. Too bad we didn't care.


	5. Chapter 5 - The Capitol

**Clove**

**Part Five**

If I thought the view from the train was amazing, it is nothing compared to what I am looking at now. My mouth drops open as we pull into the Capitol. Cato raises his eyebrows in wonder.

"Wow" he breathes, "Such a beautiful place for such brutal people." I stifle a gasp and quickly look around as if someone might be listening. There is no one of course; it's early morning, before breakfast and we are in my room alone.

"Cato!" I frown. Then leaning closer I speak into his ear, "Who knows if they're listening" I whisper. His eyes trail down my face, my eyes, the sprinkle of freckles on my nose, my lips then flick back up to focus on my eyes. He shrugs then turns back to the window.

"I guess; but really, I don't care if they are." I'm about to argue when he laughs. I forget what I was saying and follow his gaze. Then I see what he is looking at. "Clove!" He exclaims, "Look at them!" I wrinkle my nose.

"I _am_ looking" I reply, still staring in disgusted fascination. I have never seen anything like this before. Cat whiskers, brightly colored hair in tight ringlets, golden tattoos. Some even have their entire bodies dyed an absurd color. I see one woman with entirely green skin! I imagined the Capitol residents would look a little strange; ridiculous clothes, crazy hair and sky high heels. Something like Corelia or the other Capitol representatives we see at the reapings. But they are nothing compared to this.

They notice our train and gather as near as they can, waving and blowing kisses. Cato grins.

"So Clove do we wave?" I shrug uncertainly.

"What have we got to lose?" I nudge him playfully. "It's not like we're ever going to have this experience again." Together we wave at the crowds surrounding our train. They are overjoyed and start jostling each other for positions closer to us. I laugh, "Hey Cato, watch this." I press my fingers to my lips and blow the crowd a kiss. They go wild; some even pretend to catch it as if it were something real for them to touch. Cato raises his eyebrows at me,

"They really seem to love us for people that can't wait to see us die." I grimace but shrug at him.

"They can't help it." I say, defending these ridiculous air heads for some reason, "Maybe if we were born here we'd be the same." He shudders,

"No," he says with finality, "No we most definitely would not."

Our train pulls into the station and we lose sight of the brightly colored flock of birds that is the Capitol residents. Immediately after the train stops, we are ushered off and directed into a large extravagant room. I can see the tributes from other Districts starting to arrive. Their faces are full of awe and wonder which I am sure mimics my own expression. Cato grips my hand,

"There are so many of them Clove" he mutters under his breath and I can hear the panic creeping into his voice." I squeeze his hand but don't trust my voice to speak. Looking at them, I don't know if I can go through with our plan. Be a Career? The word sticks in my mouth like a bad taste you can't get rid of. We are choosing to be ruthless killing machines; people who murder other innocent kids in cold blood. Just like that, without another thought or feelings of guilt or even slight remorse. And then I see her and my heart stops like it did at the reaping. I can feel the tears begin but I am saved by a small group of exotic creatures. Or rather; our prep teams. As Cato is extracted from my grasp by his highly excited group of Capitol makeover artists, he catches my eye. He starts to smile but notices the expression on my face. He frowns and mouths 'What's wrong?' I shake my head and I know he hasn't seen her.

My prep team pulls me down a long corridor. They seem overly energized considering they are practically preparing me for slaughter.

"Come on! Come on, come on!" The woman with pink hair and golden tattoos shrieks pulling my faster. The other two are already far ahead. How they manage to move so fast in such ridiculous attires amazes me. The two women have obviously been reading the same fashion guide as Corelia as their heels are just as high. The man is no exception. Apparently in the Capitol heels are not considered to be a clothing item strictly for females. Suddenly I am shoved through a door that has just slid open. As I turn around to watch it close behind me, a catch sight of the girl fluttering through a similar door. I flinch and quickly turn back around. The prep team forces me into a shower where all sorts of strange concoctions are pumped over me; each one seeming to remove another layer of skin. I am filed and buffed and polished and painted. But the whole time my thoughts return to the girl. Her chocolate skin, matching warm eyes; the way she floated seeming to never touch the ground. Looking at her, I would have thought she was Lila's age. She is so tiny, so spindly; she can't possibly be older than ten. And yet here she is. It is obvious Kallen was not the only twelve year old to be reaped today. But something went wrong in her District. And when they asked for volunteers, there was nothing but the wind to answer. I shake my head as if to clear the image and am rewarded with a series of panicked gasps and shrieks from my prep team.

"Clove, darling" The one with cat whiskers stretching across her cheeks and talons curling off her nails, coos into my face, "Sweetie, you can't move. We have to make you look your best for the parade!" I blink up at her innocently.

"Oh, of course!"I exclaim, sounding far too exaggerated, "I've just never had anything like this before! I don't know what to do!" They all miss the touch of sarcasm in my voice and cluck over me and offer all sorts of meaningless advice to which I smile and thank them as if I were listening. Really, I am wondering how Cato is going. I imagine it is far less work for the boys. Meanwhile I have to be waxed and plucked and polished to perfection.

Just as I am feeling entirely overwhelmed and completely through with this ridiculous makeover process, the man steps back to examine their work. Feeling their hands leave me, I lift my head and notice him ushering the two women out of the room. Quickly I sit up. I am in a sterile white room, filled with an endless array of items I have no name for. The man who is still in the room turns around at the movement. I bite my lip and look at him, waiting for answers. He smiles but with his wild appearance, it does not seem comforting.

"We have finished prepping you," He speaks for the first time and it takes all my strength not to burst into a mixture of laughter and tears. The laughter because his accent is hilarious and combined with his costume, it is so utterly unlike anything I have ever seen before I can hardly believe it's real. I know if Cato were here we both would have lost the battle to contain ourselves long ago. The tears are because these people with their affected voices and spoiled lifestyles are in charge of our fate. It is because of them that we are here at all. "Your stylist will be will you soon." The man from the prep team speaks up then quickly trots through the open door. It slides shut and I am left alone in this unnervingly white room. I am suddenly reminded of the health care centre back home. When my brother Xavier was young, about three I think, he managed to reach the shelf where I kept my knives thinking they would be safe from him. Apparently they weren't and well, let's just say, he was not exactly as skilled with them as I was. Luckily my mother and I were home and managed to get him to the centre. It was not nearly as high tech as anything I'm sure would be available in the Capitol. It was functional though. And I am told that what now seems like a fairly basic centre is actually one of the best medicinal facilities in all the Districts. I guess that is one benefit to being the Capitol's pets. We have a higher standard of life compared to the other struggling Districts. But, Capitol's babies or not, we are not exempt from the Hunger Games.


End file.
